Mass Effect: Aralakh Inferno
by Grey Nayr
Summary: Curing the Genophage was supposed to be the end of their burden, but it wasn't. Urdnot Wrex, now chief of the new Krogan Union, struggles to keep his people united amid political pressure, criticism and the anarchistic Blood Pack acting as conservative champions during a period of reform. But they made a big mistake; screwing with a jaded krogan who really wants to shoot something.


Mass Effect: Aralakh Inferno

By Grey Nayr

**Dedicated to a friend who really likes krogan.**

Urdnot Wrex always hated his meetings with the Citadel Council. Ever since the Krogan Union had been formed, and he ascended as Head-Chief alongside Bakara, two of these four had been a consistent thorn in his side.

Every other week he would board a shuttle to the great space station that now orbits planet Earth, spending three hours cooped up, with little to do to and fro.

And that was a brighter part of the trip.

In spite of everything the krogan race had earned, they were still third class in the eyes of many. Mostly turians and salarians who could not forgive a two-thousand year old war they neither saw nor fought in. Opinions that lasted much longer than their respective lifespan.

Opinions and fears.

For roughly fifteen hundred years, the krogan population was cautiously controlled and their influence suppressed. But in the wake of the Reaper war, that changed. The Genophage, a salarian-created plague which caused all but one out of every one thousand krogan pregnancies to end in miscarriage or stillbirth was suddenly cured after attempts to renew its strength, and sabotage of attempts to bypass it. Great bravery and sacrifice saving worlds from the Reaper shock troops gave them the love of the masses. Fallen heroes restored to their old glory.

But not in the eyes of the fearful. A cured Genophage gave krogan strength of numbers that the past had proven to be undefeatable. The people's love made them blind and weak to krogan conspiracies.

At least, that's what paranoia whispered into their ears

And Wrex was the target of all of their tension. He was now the face of their species. One who rallied the race of disgraced warriors and pushed them to earn a better future.

But right now, he just wanted to shoot something. A lot.

"This is my problem, why?" he asked the Council after their latest batch of complaints. Krogan who left the Union to live among the aliens were not under his authority. But that only meant they accused him of driving them out with bad leadership.

"You were chosen to lead your people," the turian councilor, Sparatus stated.

"Nobody _chose_ me," the krogan leader clarified. "I poured a lot of sweat and blood to unite my homeworld." A slight chuckle was heard as he added, "Even if most of it wasn't mine."

A small boast to remind them of who they were dealing with.

"Charming," the salarian councilor, Valern, sighed. Years were catching up with him. His face was covered in a maze of wrinkles on fading skin. Salarians usually did not live long past forty human years, but thanks to modern medicine, gene therapies, and a healthy lifestyle, he had managed to linger five longer and still did not wish to retire.

Volus councilor Barla Von; the newest member of the Council, leaned forward, resting his hand on his podium. His eye wandered from the scarred krogan in armor a much deeper red than the cherry blossom trees bedecking the Citadel Tower's main, which he found pleasant. "Wrex," he said with a deep breath through his air mask, "what we are concerned" - he breathed deeply - "about are the effects that your" - he breathed deeply again - "people are having on the rest of the galactic community."

The human councilor silently watched her three fellows exchanging arguments and insults with the krogan leader, sizing them all up. Not too long ago, Humans were in Wrex's place, suffering scorn. Now they stood on the Council which no doubt fed fears. How long would it be before the krogan demanded to join the Council? The argument was already being made by some and they had arguably earned the right. Any species living within Citadel space that proved capable of contributing to its protection would be given a seat after an act of heroism. Like the turians had, by ending the _Krogan Rebellions_. And the humans, by saving the Citadel from a geth attack led by the Reaper called Sovereign. A battle Wrex fought in, no less.

"Billions of krogan are leaving your Union and cluttering the Citadel and numerous colonies!" Sparatus snapped.

Wrex shrugged. "Last I checked, existing in a certain place was not a crime."

"But when there are a shortage of jobs and food to support everyone, events following are poverty and then crime," he explained. "Which is increasing."

"Pirates attacked a vessel belonging to the _Special Tasks Group_," Valern supported Sparatus' claim, "stealing billions of credits worth of technology."

"Jobs?" Wrex scoffed, ignoring Valern's complaints which were not his problem. "There aren't enough cowardly alien crooks wanting bodyguards and muscle?"

Barla Von straightened his posture and wiped away dust that was obviously not on his exo-suit. "_Citadel Security _has made great strides against organized crime and mercs in the wards, under Executor Bailey's command."

"After the Reaper invasion of the Citadel killed many of them in open resistance," Sparatus pointed out, unwilling to admit that Bailey was the best executor _C-Sec _ever had, and not one of the former, turian executors. "And now Krogan are either starving and turning to crime, or taking jobs that aren't meant for them. Taking them away from-"

"People who you believe deserve them more!?" Wrex growled, finishing his thought. "Did you forget, Sparatus, who saved your homeworld from the Reapers while you parked your boney ass behind a desk and flared your mandibles at how helpless you were!?"

Those mandibles were flaring now, in anger.

The slightest impression of a frown hid behind Barla Von' breather mask, which concealed a volus' entire face. The asari lost their seat on the Council due to revelations concerning the _Temple of Athame_. For the contribution of their bombing fleets, as well as aid in restoring galactic economy after the war ended, the Volus were granted that seat. Barla Von was only the second of his people to sit on the Council. Something his employer, the enigmatic _Shadow Broker _had gone to great lengths to arrange. Many whispered that Von was only a puppet for the Broker, but numerous investigations and comm-taps had found nothing to prove it. Even if it was true.

Only two people in this meeting knew that the Broker was an asari, using the volus as her delegate.

Barla Von knew Wrex from the good old days, when they were both Shadow Broker agents. Wrex no longer served under his employ, but orders Von received to indulge Wrex and support him denoted that they remained on good terms. However, the volus hadn't the slightest idea why.

"And that debt has been more than repaid," Sparatus waved Wrex off. "The Genophage is cured, and you were granted several colony worlds on which to breed."

"Heh," Wrex laughed. "I like how you take credit for the things you didn't actually do. Shepard cured the Genophage after that gecko Dalatrass Linron tried to stop it, twice. First when she let Cerberus into Sur'Kesh and again when she had the Shroud self-destruct. And then you gave us one world in the _Attican Traverse_ and it was _Virmire_ of all places! The world where your STG destroyed another cure. The rest of our colonies are in the Terminus Systems where I thankfully do not have to deal with you."

The Human Councilor smirked at Wrex's comeback. Everyone knew that the Council granting Virmire to the krogan was symbolic: a message saying that they wished the cure had never happened. She couldn't help a snort at how quickly they forgot that the cure saved their lives.

"Yes, I'm sure a thug like Aria T'Loak is far more pleasing company," Valern scoffed. "Someone who doesn't mind taking your lot into the Blood Pack."

"You know that the Krogan Union does not associate with mercenary groups anymore," Wrex countered. A partial truth. Mercenaries that engaged in criminal activity were denounced. The Krogan Union's army often took contracts as private security to colonies and companies on the fringes of the Terminus to bring in credits. Often protecting them from the less savory mercs like the Blood Pack. "We're trying to improve our image. But I'm this close to saying 'fuck it' because the people we're trying to impress are a bunch of nitwits!"

The Human Councilor almost failed to conceal her agreeing laugh at Wrex's statement. Unlike him, she had to face them every single day for countless hours.

Feeling a distinct lack of support, Valern said to her, "You've been silent, Councilor Lawson."

"I haven't had to speak," Miranda replied, her smooth Australian accent unmistakable. "Sparatus has blown enough hot air for everyone."

Wrex bellowed with a throaty cackle, holding his stomach.

"The krogan have been vital to the salvation of the galaxy on more than one occasion," she continued. "More than deserving of our tolerance, if not respect. When the Reapers laid waste to your home worlds and colonies, it was krogan soldiers who were the greatest defense. Or do I have to recount the Miracle at Palaven in detail?"

"Generous praise from Cerberus' former second-in-command," Sparatus sneered. A low blow, but one that carried no force. Miranda made no apologies for her past because it allowed her to play her own pivotal role in saving the galaxy. One that helped to earn her this current position.

"And someone who shares a connection with Union Chief Wrex through Commander Shepard," Valern supported Sparatus. "Whose influence you can credit your current position to."

Miranda's face betrayed no emotions as she said, "If you believe I am offended by either of those slurs you are mistaken, Councilors. In spite of their crimes, I did good work at Cerberus that protected human interests at a time when you treated us no better than you do the krogan. Also, Shepard saved everything with our help. The Commander's name can never be used for an insult."

Wrex grinned in agreement. "Just trying shows how dumb they are," he said to her. "They don't have a good reason to feel insulted by our progress so they hang on to the past. Time changes things."

"Agreed," she nodded.

"I've got a lot of problems on Tuchanka. It's twice as hot without the Shroud treating the atmosphere and I've got traditionalists yelling at me constantly because I'm building a new one and they're paranoid about another plague. Blood Pack is stirring up trouble because we denounced mercs. And traditionalists think they're heroes when they're just a pack of troublemakers. And now these three asses want me to put Krogan who left Tuchanka and its colonies on a leash," Wrex groused to Miranda, who sympathized.

"Perhaps we should adjourn this meeting for now," she said, winking to Wrex. "Allow some time for problems to resolve."

He knew that meant she was buying him time. If some of the problems on his homeworld could be settled, a number of the krogan leaving because of them may return home. Alleviating the congestion.

It wasn't a perfect solution. For Wrex, it partially felt like he would be conceding that the Council was right in their prejudices. But he forced himself to see the bigger picture: that resources were still scarce after the end of the war, and Tuchanka had more to support krogan than the Citadel and alien colonies did. The baby boom their species experienced in the last several years forced the cultivation of those resources, after all.

Wrex's stomach then rumbled queasily. Lunch was catching up with him. While eating at Apollo's shortly before his meeting with the council.

Turian food, he ordered. Incompatible with his levo amino acid-based physiology. For any other species, ingesting food meant for turians and quarians would cause a severe allergic reaction, often fatal. But the constitution and organ redundancy of the krogan allowed them to survive with only a severe bout of the runs.

Wrex hastily walked the halls of the Tower and headed toward a restroom reserved for Councilor Sparatus, laughing with a grin at every step. After he was done, the urge would strike again, and he would march to Valern's restroom.

The biggest highlight of his trips to the Citadel: sticking it to Turians and Salarians.

It was roughly four hours later when Wrex's shuttle re-entered the _Krogan DMZ_ cluster, _Aralakh_ system. The breezy sound of the craft's FTL drive thrummed in the background like white noise as the krogan passed the time poking at haptic interface of his Omni-Tool. A Clan Urdnot battle hymn streamed to his earpiece. The date in the corner of the holo-screen, set to the Krogan calendar, would translate to _June 18, 2191_.

An aggravated huff passed his lips and he itched to get out of his seat and stretch his legs.

The shuttle vibrated as it dropped from FTL speeds. Aging tech that needed to be replaced. The inertial dampeners also malfunctioned. Meaning Wrex could feel it every time the craft swayed to avoid obstructions, and descended into Tuchanka's atmosphere.

A moment later, the ship made landfall, setting at the shuttle pad atop the twenty-step ziggurat he'd commissioned to be built over top of the old Urdnot camp.

With a rush of air, the hatch opened and he stepped out. He stretch and let his face feel the warmth, which was only pleasant the first few moments. Tuchanka's sun was aged prematurely, which Tali compared to the sun which a quarian colony called Haestrom orbited. A phenomenon that went unnoticed only because the Shroud kept the atmosphere strong.

The heat made everything more complicated.

Tuchanka was a part of the Krogan that they could not abandon. But temperatures that were sweltering even for a Krogan burned plant life and dried water reservoirs, making it exceedingly difficult to cultivate the scorched land. Resulting in a focus on developing a new Shroud facility and building cities over the rubble of old empires. Food was grown and game hunted on colony worlds.

He gazed over the horizon. In five years, developments had come along nicely. Debris littering the land had been cleared away and masons had erected many buildings. Though none nearly as high as the High Chief's ziggurat compound.

Wrex had to let everyone know that he was calling the shots.

Descending inside from the roof via a flight of stairs, Wrex entered his dwelling. The air was cool and the decor befitted a member of Clan Urdnot. Outer walls were made of glass tempered enough to resist a Thanix blast, creating a panoramic view of the Urdnot city.

Going for the nearest bottle of ryncol, Wrex settled on a seat and switched on the vid screen, playing Alliance News, hoping to see a story about Shepard. The Normandy and its crew were often mentioned for snuffing out fires of conflict before they truly started.

When he didn't see anything, he switched over to a Blasto film that he would pay no attention to while he drank to relax his lagged body.

"Wrex," said Bakara, who he did not notice coming up behind him. She could give a drell assassin a run for his credits, he thought.

"Bakara," was all he said back to his mate.

"Cheery as ever." Her eyes rolled. "How did it go?"

"How do you think it went?" he curtly replied with a drink.

"_That bad_?"

"Yup."

"You need to be nicer."

He groaned. "Why can't you do the politicking with the aliens? I'm a general, _not_ a diplomat."

At least, that's what he preferred to be.

She circled to his front, dragging a comforting hand along his wide jaw line. Wrex noticed she wasn't veiled, leaving her face exposed. The crest on the female Krogan's forehead was smooth and round, and her jaw narrower. Her hump was smaller as well.

"Because you're the one who started everything," was the explanation she offered. "The aliens think of you first whenever the word krogan is spoken. And our males respect you far more than I."

"Yeah," he replied, not fully believing, "the Council gives me shit over old stereotypes and the males respect me enough to yell, stomp, and whine like a herd of ungrateful quadless whelps. If it weren't for us they'd still be killing each other for food and fertile females while cremating the stillborns of the ones who aren't! But they can't stop feeling slighted by a few changes to see how much everything has improved. And it's up to me to keep whipping them back into line."

Bakara knelt down beside him and took his hands. At first, she could barely stand him. Even today they still often bickered and bantered. She'd grown to care for him, nevertheless. In spite of their political mating, an admiration for his progressive attitude could not be denied. Only veiled within a joke that would agitate him in that way she enjoyed. But comfort and support were things he never had to ask for. "It's your job to win their hearts and minds," she said. "You can't expect barking at them to obey and head butting them when they don't to work forever."

"Yeah," he snorted. "I might have to start shooting at them."

"That's not funny," she said.

"I just want to shoot something," he said. "A _lot_."

Bakara shook her head. Males and their guns.

"How have things been since I left?" Wrex asked.

"The same as they were this morning _when_ you left."

Wrex groaned.

"We knew there would be resistance when we started to demilitarize the clans to form a national army," she continued. "And encourage them to farm and study instead of fight and shout."

"Which was your idea that I'm getting all the blame for," Wrex pointed out.

Bakara justified her idea by stating, "Other species won't take us seriously in galactic politics unless we can live up to the standards of modern civilization. A peaceful government with a regulated military and productive, intelligent society. We'll preserve what's good about our culture and let the bad parts fade away. When our clutch is fully grown, they will have a bright future ahead of them."

Wrex took a long swig of his ryncol. "Krogan males need an outlet for their anger, Bakara. You let us get pent up for too long and we explode easily."

"You're surprisingly calm."

"Yeah, that's me," he snickered. "Lawson once told me I have the patience of Job. Whoever that is."

"A figure from a human religion."

"Like that nickname Mordin gave you, _Eve_?"

"Just like that."

Their conversation was broken by the whooshing of the door as Grunt, the tank bred spawn of Warlord Okeer, made his way in. An _M-300 Claymore _was holstered on his side and modified with a blade attached to the barrel and a thermal clip expansion. In lieu of a traditional crest, his head was covered in gray scaly plates, like an infant. Scales formed a patch on his chin, resembling a human beard. Grunt was garbed in azure armor adorned with several LED lights; a gift from Commander Shepard during their mission against the Collectors. A visor mounted on his jaw line covered both of his eyes with a holo display.

Flanking Grunt was _Urdnot Kyrel_, his lieutenant. A young sentinel in shadowy armor who distinguished himself single-handedly; protecting females supporting Bakara from a rogue clan after his squad had been killed. A deed that caught Grunt's eye and brought him under the pure Krogan's tutelage. A large scar spanned the length of his blue bone crest and reached down to the left of his beige-skinned jaw. On his hip was a _Punisher SMG _he'd liberated from a member of the Blood Pack and repainted with Clan Urdnot's insignia.

The young commander of the _Aralakh Company _marched toward the Head Chief with a confident stride. "Glad your back, Wrex," he smirked. "This place gets boring without you."

"Heh. 'Bout time you showed up," he nodded. "Report."

"The Blood Pack tried causing a ruckus at the biotiball game," Grunt explained. "Sabotage; so the _Kelphic Krushers _would lose to the _Masaru_ _Maestros_."

Bakara could only shake her head at an action so petty; making the Krushers lose in an attempt to make Wrex look bad, because forming a team of krogan biotiball players was his idea. One that went over quite well with fans of the league. Krogan biotics were rare and steadily declining. Their force and passionate sportsmanship made the games far more intense. Pushing rival teams to play harder, if only to avoid being flattened by a krogan's Biotic Charge.

"I heard the Krushers won," Wrex commented.

"I did say _tried_," Grunt grinned.

Wrex chuckled. "Any luck finding where they're hiding?"

"Best I can tell, somewhere in the Kelphic Valley," was the only answer Grunt had to give.

"I need better," he replied. "That place covers a third of the planet.

"Maybe you should hit their boss," Kyrel suggested. "Go to Omega and strike right at the top."

"Uh..." Wrex hesitated. A noticeable distinction from his usual bluster.

"What?" Grunt cocked his head. Bakara stared quizzically.

"Aria T'Loak and I have. . . history," he said, shuffling nervously. "It's complicated."

"Wrex. . ." Bakara used that tone. The one that always made him edgy.

With a sigh, he conceded, "We have an understanding. We stay out of each others' way. I don't tell people what I know about her and she doesn't tell people what she knows about me.

"My life is complicated enough now without the Council holding some of my past mercenary work over my head during negotiations."

Wrex also knew that the odds of Aria being the one pulling the Blood Pack's strings on Tuchanka were slim. As long as they were good earners and obeyed her orders, she allowed the three major merc groups to pursue their own affairs. Interfering with Krogan politics offered little for her to gain. So far, they had not been enough of a nuisance to seek her aid. The gesture - looking to an alien to solve a Krogan problem - would make him look weak in the eyes of his people when they needed to appear just as strong as they actually were.

"I'll keep looking," Grunt guaranteed. "And when we find them, I will make them bleed, a lot."

"Save some for me."

"Heh, Heh, heh," Grunt slowly chuckled from his throat as he left the room.

The next three weeks passed by without a lot of activity from the Blood Pack. Wrex had been skipping his meetings with the Council, declaring that he'd have good news when next they spoke. And only getting away with it thanks to Miranda and Liara's volus proxy.

Grunt and Kyrel followed every lead and purged them wherever they were found. But no offensive moves had been made. As if something larger were in the works.

That something was revealed one night while Wrex and Bakara were sleeping in their dwelling.

Systems were shut down and guards were tranquilized. The Blood Pack navigated the ziggurat compound, avoiding detection with efficiency, using schematics acquired from a spy inside of Wrex's private security team, now suited up in the group attire.

A few more moments brought them to the den of the dwelling, which was empty and dark. Night visor helmets allowed the mercs to compensate for this hindrance. There were four of them. Two krogan, and two vorcha, clad in armor painted with the blood of their victims, boasting a sloppy white skull on the shoulder.

Splitting up, Team One was assigned to take out Wrex. Team Two's orders were to dispatch Bakara and their clutch. A plan to send a message to any who supported the reforms.

Team One came to the door of Wrex's bedroom and opened it quietly. Rumors that Wrex slept in his armor appeared true, the Blood Pack Krogan thought to himself, grinning to his Vorcha companion. He was laid out on his side, back turned to the door. Easy to kill.

The merc brandished a Blood Pack developed _Executioner pistol_, modified with a heavy barrel, piercing unit, and equipped with armor piercing rounds for good measure. This pistol would punch a hole in the hull of a Reaper, he thought. More than enough to kill Urdnot Wrex.

He held the barrel to the back of the krogan's hump, poised for a headshot at point blank range.

A loud shot resounded with a flash of light from the barrel that brightened the room.

"I just killed Urdnot Wrex!" the merc laughed victoriously.

"Congratulations," Wrex said from behind him. The Blood Pack merc was startled and jumped. He spun around to face the Head Chief, but he was felled by a sharp head butt before he could reload his Executioner, which could only fire once before the heat sink needed to be changed.

"Stupid whelps," Wrex said as he grabbed the Vorcha by the throat and squeezed until its spine and windpipe were crushed and it died. The constriction so tight that the creature's face turned pale blue from suffocation.

The krogan merc looked up at Wrex, who was standing naked before him. He silently chided himself for not noticing that he only shot an empty suit of armor.

Before he could reach for his gun, Wrex stomped his wrist, shattering it under his great weight. "Did you really think I couldn't hear you coming? What an idiot."

Wrex grabbed the Executioner pistol and popped the clip to reload. Killing the merc with a clean shot through the helmet. "Amateur."

Bakara appeared a second later, responding to the shots she had heard. "What happened?" she asked before seeing the bodies sprawled out on the floor. "Oh, I see you had some friends over."

"No time for jokes," Wrex said, short and serious. "We're under attack." He passed the Executioner pistol to her and grabbed his shotgun, an _M-11 Wraith_ modified with a smart choke and a clip expansion.

Knowing that another team was likely there and likely targeting Bakara, going to her room was the obvious decision. They charged through the halls with purpose, ready to spill the blood of their foes.

"Rrrraah! Where is she?" the vorcha from Team Two asked his Krogan superior with a hiss.

"I don't know." He scratched his head. "Who cares though? The clutch is here."

Before them laid a dozen baby krogan in life pods which ensured their health and development through infancy. A technology crafted by Mordin and entrusted to Bakara shortly before their mission to the Shroud. Many krogan females could birth up to a thousand in a clutch. But the imperfect cure meant Bakara would bear significantly less. But it was still better than none at all.

Wrex burst into the room and charged Team Two, sending the duo crashing to the ground in a single move. Bakara pointed her gun and shot the vorcha in the face without a word.

The krogan was lifted by Wrex and slammed into the wall repeatedly. He'd shed his helmet stupidly and was now bleeding out of several of his orifices. He recognized this krogan from his security team.

"You just made the biggest mistake of your life," Wrex promised with a low, menacing hiss. "_I_ am _Urdnot Wrex_, and _these_ are _my_ children!" He viciously snarled as he slammed again.

"Wrex, you're going to kill him!" said Bakara.

"That was my intent," he said, slamming the merc once more.

"You don't intend to question him?"

Wrex froze, knowing she was right. He growled angrily, like a lion before mauling its prey. "Tell me what you know, you quadless coward!"

The merc writhed under his grip. "I know _you're_ a traitor to our kind," he accused. "Helping the Council to sterilize us again with the Shroud. Giving up territory to the Rachni. Taking away our way of life and turning us into your slaves."

Propaganda. This male was a recruit, not a veteran of the Blood Pack, Wrex realized. A seasoned member would believe enough to justify his opposition, but know the distinction between the lies and the truth. "You're a fool," Wrex dismissed him, following with an education of how it really was. "Without the Shroud we'll end up burning to death. The Rachni established their colonies before we got to those worlds. And without those reforms we wouldn't have enough food or shelter for everyone. You're free to leave and play merc on Omega if you don't like the way that I run the Union."

"The only good rachni or salarians are dead ones," he countered. "We don't cooperate or coexist with their kind; we kill them and make what's theirs ours. Like true warriors!"

Wrex grated his teeth. "I'll ask you this plainly and I expect an honest answer: where. Is. Your. camp?"

"I'll die before I tell you any thing!" the merc spat.

"Wrong answer!" Wrex hammered his head into the wall again and again, until his crest cracked and blood cascaded down the merc's face. The skull-branded armor was torn off and Wrex's knee smashed into his quad. Causing the merc to yelp in pain.

"Care to reconsider?" Wrex seethed. "I promise you that I can make your death slow and agonizing."

"Okay. . . Okay. . ." the merc stammered. "We have three main camps." He tapped on his Omni-Tool to highlight two of the locations on a holo-map. "But I don't know where the Boss' camp is. Only the most loyal and seasoned are allowed to know that. They're afraid of Aralakh Company finding out."

As a reward, Wrex killed him quickly: grabbing the krogan by the neck and tearing out his throat. With a sharp look to Bakara he said, "Get Grunt in here, now!"

Grunt and Kyrel made good time, arriving inside of thirty Citadel minutes.

"Having fun without me?" Grunt asked, staring at the bodies.

"Not the time," Wrex curtly replied, handing the merc's Omni-Tool to Kyrel. "The locations of two big hideouts are on that. I want them purged and razed," he commanded angrily.

"Where are you going?" Kyrel dared to ask.

"To get answers," he yelled back, stomping toward the comm room.

Wrex entered the comm room and sealed the door behind him. He punched a number into the haptic keyboard on the terminal and the call was sent through the comm buoys to Omega. He was hoping this could be avoided, but the Blood Pack had just forced his hand. Aria needed to rein her people in, or else there would be consequences.

A hologram of a lanky salarian with an extra droopy mouth manifested. It was depicted by a flat sketchy blue image distorted with lines rolling from bottom to top. The sound had an after-tone of static while he asked, "Who is this?"

"Urdnot Wrex, Head Chief of the Krogan Union," he declared. "I need to speak to your boss. _Now_!"

Heeding his order, the salarian left. A few short moments later an asari appeared in the holo-display, wearing skin-tight black pants with strappings barely covering her breasts while leaving her midriff exposed, and an open white jacket with no sleeves, cut just below the ribs.

"I thought I told you only to contact me if it's important," Aria said in a slightly annoyed tone.

"It is. And we're on a secure channel," Wrex alleviated her concerns. "I thought we had an understanding."

"We do," she answered. "You sound angry."

"I am," he curtly growled. "If we have an understanding, then why, _Aleena_ is the Blood Pack causing trouble on Tuchanka? They just invaded my home and attacked my clutch!"

Wrex could see the slightest indication of surprise on the poker face she honed through centuries of playing the game of organized crime on Omega. "I see."

"You didn't know?" he asked.

"Of course not," was her answer. "I wouldn't so callously throw away our arrangement to get involved in the politics of Citadel space."

"What about to silence me?" Wrex considered the possibility. "I'm the only one left who knows who you really are."

She snorted a laugh. "You're not the _only_ one," she assured. "I have to pull old strings from time to time."

"Then why are they here!?"

"The Blood Pack went rogue," she admitted. "They became dissatisfied with my leadership after Gryll died and a new leader was chosen. I'm not the power in their organization anymore."

"Who is?" Wrex demanded.

"I don't know," Aria replied. "Just that he's a krogan. This is probably why they're interested in your politics. Perhaps he's an upstart who was too scared to try and take _my_ throne, so he's going after yours."

Wrex quietly digested this new information. If Aria could be trusted, it would explain many things. The Blood Pack's use of stealth tactics. As well as sending rookies to do a professional's job. Whoever was giving the orders was acting as if zeal were more important than skill. Something Aria knew better than to do.

"I'm going to find him and kill him with my bare hands," Wrex swore.

Aria nodded silently, looking down. "As a gesture of good faith, I'll share some intel I have on the Blood Pack. I kept tabs until they left the Terminus Systems. Some locations were mentioned. Nothing concrete, but if mixed with your own information it could shed some light on them."

The Krogan leader knew how Aria played the game. This gesture would benefit her as much, if not more, than he. If the new leader of the Blood Pack were killed, the rest would more than likely return to the fold. She was leveraging this possibility as a gesture of kindness to gain Wrex's favor in case she ever needed it in the future.

But right now, information was too good to pass up.

"Thanks," he said.

"No problem," she replied. "And Wrex?"

"What?"

"I'm looking forward to our rematch," she smirked wryly.

"Hah!" Wrex chuckled from his throat. "You know where to find me, Aleena."

"Indeed," she said with her grin. "I've seen what we can do to a space station. Might as well fight on a planet that's already rubble instead of my Omega."

The comm closed and Wrex downloaded the new information to his Omni-Tool. He doubted their rematch would ever happen. Since retaking Omega from Cerberus, Aria rarely left it. But with any luck, Kyrel and Fortack could cross reference it and extrapolate a location for the Blood Pack leader's base.

By the end of the week; after Fortack and Kyrel went over every byte of data thoroughly, cross referencing with their own knowledge and anything else they could subtly gather from the populace; they had an answer.

"Wrex," Grunt nodded to him as he entered the war room of the compound.

"Grunt," he nodded back. Facing Kyrel and Fortack, he asked, "What have you got?"

"We have what you seek," Fortack claimed. Kyrel nodded in agreement. A smirk of proud accomplishment curling in the corner of his mouth.

"Good, where is that rat hiding?"

"The city of the ancients," was the answer Wrex received.

"The catacombs?" his eyes widened. He scoffed. "Figures. With Kalros lurking that area nobody would want to go there willingly."

Fortack shrugged and pressed a series of buttons on his Omni-Tool's haptic keyboard, bringing up a holographic display of the area spanning from the Hollows to the rubble of the old Shroud facility. Translucent blue and lacking of small details. "I scanned the area from space with the shuttle. There are no heat signatures moving to or from the ruins. So we had to look the old fashioned way."

Kyrel took over the explanation. "I touched down several clicks away and staked out on foot. Through a scope, I could see a shuttle leaving and arriving periodically. Transporting men and bringing in supplies."

"Which means that it's using a stealth drive," Fortack added. "They also have high grade anti-aircraft guns mounted around the perimeter. But how they got there hands on all this crap, I don't know."

Wrex knew. "The salarian councilor mentioned that pirates hijacked an STG ship and stole some tech. Guess we know who did it now."

"Not that it helps us any," Kyrel said. "Unless you want to return it to the salarians for goodwill."

"That's not a bad idea," Bakara admitted.

Wrex thought quietly for a second. He pointed to an icon representing the shuttle. "We'll bide our time until the shuttle leaves and take it down. We can't fly in, thanks those guns, so we'll drive in with the tomkahs. I want all possible escape routes covered. We'll snuff them out in one attack."

"Not a bad idea," Kyrel said, ignoring that his suggestion was completely passed over by fervor or Wrex not wishing to give anything to the salarians. "One problem with going by land."

"Kalros, I know," Wrex finished his thought. "That thing is a pain in the ass. And we can't drop the maw hammers to lure it away without alerting the enemy before we're ready."

"Blood Pack's leader probably thought of that," Grunt said. "If we want to get to him, we have to take a risk."

"Have troops hit the other two bases at the same time," Wrex ordered. "But I want you and Kyrel at my back."

"Can I fight Kalros?"

"No," Wrex answered. "I like you better alive."

"Aww, you never let me have any fun," Grunt sulked.

"Pick your men carefully. I want no spies leaking our plans to the Blood Pack and them running away. Choose only men you trust to tell any of the details of the operation. The rest can believe that we're going after another target.

The city of ancients lay amid a vast desert wasteland, brutalized by the dawning light of Aralakh's inferno. Heat from the blazing sun bore down on the lands mercilessly, scorching everything below without the Shroud acting as a thin layer of protection. The shield protecting a broken soldier from deathblow.

The ground trembled at Kalros' move. A creature strong enough to swim through the hardened soil like a fish through water. Mighty enough to bring a Reaper into the depths and crush it under immense pressure.

Vibrations never fully stopped. A sign that it could be upon them if they let down their guard.

Wrex sat patiently in the driver's seat of his tomkah. Calm imposed for this task. If the scanner alarmed from the worm coming near, his reaction would need to be with haste and precision, not fervor and blood rage.

The scanner blipped at every other second. Just enough to let them know it was working. Rays from the rising sun glared in Wrex's eye. An annoyance that he could have avoided, if he didn't want to watch the Blood Pack base with his own eyes.

The tomkah truck parked several clicks away from their target, to prevent being detected. At top speed, the distance could be closed in ten minutes, give or take.

Avoiding Kalros was the real difficulty.

"Grunt," Wrex said into his comm, "what are your scouts seeing?"

"Shuttle just left," he answered. "I've got word from the other teams; they're in position to attack the other bases on your clear."

"My soldiers have the escapes covered," Kyrel chimed in. "We can move at any time."

"Then let's move out!" Wrex yelled into the mic, slamming down on the gas of his truck. The tires screeched against the ground for a moment before shooting off of a ledge. It flew through the air for a moment and hit the ground hard, jostling before speeding forward toward the city.

That was Wrex's signal. Grunt and Kyrel soon followed in their own tomkahs.

The ground was uneven and bumpy, just the way Wrex liked it. It fondly reminded him of riding in the _M-35 Mako _with Shepard.

"Looks like they've seen us now," Grunt said.

"They're not attacking," Kyrel noted. "We should have been dodging rockets by now."

The unmistakable vibration of a maw hammer resounded through the land.

"That didn't come from the Shroud facility," Wrex noted. "It's closer by."

"That's not good," Kyrel noted. "But where is it?"

"Underground," Grunt realized. "Looks like they didn't leave the threat of Kalros as their only ground defense."

Wrex swore as the ground began to shake in a violent tremor. The earth cracked and split, spraying debris of rock and dirt into the air as the maw came close to him, realizing a fresh meal had come. Mordin's words about the tomkah and the worm's diet replayed in his mind, unwelcome.

He spun the wheel and made a sharp U-turn, breaking Kalros' tail by using its size to his advantage.

Fifteen seconds it took, for Kalros to be on Wrex's ass again. He led it away from the city and U-turned again, pressing the pedal as hard as he could to create distance. If he got far enough away, the creature would hopefully lose interest. The krogan equivalent of adrenaline pumped.

Something was wrong, the creature didn't follow him. Mistakenly believing he was safe, Wrex breathed a deep sigh of relief. But when the ground exploded before him and Kalros' gaping maw opened to swallow him whole - the same fate that killed his brother, Wreav - all he could say was, "Oh shit."

Grunt cackled maniacally through the comm as he activated the upward thrust aided by the truck's eezo core, boosting his tomkah into the air and ramming into the giant thresher maw's side, knocking it away just enough for Wrex to dodge its mouth, but destroying the truck on impact.

"Grunt!" Wrex yelled.

"I got out," Grunt replied over comm. He landed nearby, buckled into his seat with a parachute overhead. "Last minute ejection."

"Crazy bastard," Wrex laughed as he stopped just long enough to pick up the tank bred Krogan and be on his way.

"That's why you keep me around, Wrex," Grunt proclaimed. "I'm the only one who'll do something that insane."

"Got that right."

Kalros was stunned by the move and laid unconscious for a moment. Long enough to escape its detection and arrive at the base.

Wrex didn't bother to stop at the blockade the Blood Pack had set up and plowed straight through. Tire screeched with a turn and the tomkah went up on its side for a second as it stopped. Wrex and Grunt exited the opposite side from the mercs to shield from the hail of gunfire. Wrex lobbed a frag grenade from his belt into the fray and they charged out, guns drawn, when the following explosion unbalanced and frenzied the enemy.

"For Tuchanka!" Wrex howled as bashed another krogan in the face with the butt of his Wraith and fired point blank into a Vorcha sentinel, shredding it. A stomp to the throat killed the krogan.

"I am krogan!" roared Grunt as he slashed the throat of a merc with the blade mounted on his M-300 Claymore and stabbed into the chest of another before firing. Sweeping down and grabbing a vorcha by the leg, he swung it into two others like a club and brought them down. Then he beat them into a bloody pulp with his living weapon.

Kyrel arrived with his and Grunt's units before Blood Pack reinforcements came to overwhelm the pair.

Switching on his tech armor, Kyrel came out in a blaze of gunfire, shooting every merc he saw with his Punisher SMG, which kicked back hard as it fired. Like any krogan-made weapon should.

The krogan soldiers lined up and opened fire on the mercs. The air vibrated and echoed the ripping booms of active assault weaponry as the Blood Pack mercs guarding the base entrance were riddled with holes.

When it ended, they all were dead. Wrex and his men still standing, no casualties.

"Nice work, kid," Wrex complimented Kyrel.

"We could have handled it though," Grunt added.

"Uh-huh," Kyrel laughed.

"Let's go," Wrex waved them along.

The Krogan trio broke away from the bulk of their forces, which were a diversion for the mercs while they snuck deeper inside to face and kill their leader.

The underground city had been refurbished in a style resembling Wrex's compound. He growled, realizing how they knew the layout so well.

Double agents were everywhere.

Minutes later, they came out into what appeared to be an arena, bedecked by pillars made from stacked stone blocks of varying amounts. Holes from bullets dotted many of them and dried blood was sprayed across. Varren corpses, weapons, and the bones of many krogan were strewn about. "A proving ground?" Wrex figured. "I guess they do have standards on membership."

"Not very high standards," Kyrel joked.

"I once knew this turian," Wrex commented. "He thought he was funny, just like you do."

"What happened to him?"

"Don't know," he admitted. "Dropped off the radar a year ago and hasn't been heard from sense."

"Maybe you should check the news on Omega," Grunt suggested. "Might be the real reason the Blood Pack left."

As they came to the center of the arena, Grunt noticed a crowd of krogan watching from atop a balcony overhead. He was flanked on both sides by two krogan and a vorcha. Growling varren leashed nearby.

"I'm here for your head!" Wrex declared loudly.

"Come and get it," the boss answered, stepping into full view. His face was unscarred and his crest brownish green. His voice familiar to both Grunt and Wrex. "If you can."

Wrex's eyes widened. "Well I'll be a pyjack's uncle."

"Wreav," Grunt said.

A grin painted across Wreav's face. "Surprised to see me?"

"Disappointed," Wrex replied. "Kalros had the power to kill a Reaper, but not you?"

"How?" Kyrel wondered.

Wreav laughed proudly at himself for cheating certain death. Deigning to regale them with the story, he began saying, "It's not that difficult. I was planning to overthrow my illustrious brood-brother and unite his enemies even back then. Several of the tomkahs under my command were upgraded with silaris armor and higher grade shields. It was enough to keep me alive and intact until the thresher maw passed my truck and I could escape."

Wrex bellowed a laugh at Wreav's story. "So you actually are a piece of shit now?"

Wreav cringed. "I'd rather be maw shit than a traitor to my people. I'm a _true_ krogan, unlike you. I laid low, continued rallying support under the Blood Pack's name. Plenty of krogan throughout your 'Union' cry out for a real leader, a champion who'll return them to the old ways. Spreading across the galaxy in a blaze of atomic fire. Crushing every alien who gets in our way and even some who don't!"

"Everything I've done is for the good of our species!" Wrex argued.

"Allying with salarians to rebuild the machine that castrated us is for the good of our species?" Wreav asked. "Destroying everything that makes us krogan and forcing us to act like the aliens is for the good of our species? We are warriors, Wrex! Destroyers! Not farmers, scholars, and builders."

Wrex shook his head. There was never any reasoning with his brother. "What you _are_ is an idiot," he spat. "We ran ourselves into the ground a dozenfold before the salarians ever came. The aliens nearly wiped us out because we left a gap in our armor too big to miss. We _have_ to change to survive!"

"Or we can prove our strength!" Wreav proposed to his fellows, arms stretched out with his declaration. "Make them fear and obey us!" Pointing to Wrex he finished saying, "But you're too soft to make that happen!"

"I'm not too soft to kick your ass," Wrex promised. "My men won't interfere if yours won't. Let's settle this like krogan. Single combat. Whoever wins gets to call the shots."

Just as Wrex knew he would, Wreav leapt down from his perch into the arena, eager to accept his challenge. A chance too good to pass up.

He stepped forward, M-11 Wraith ready, to meet his brother face to face.

In Wreav's arms was an assault rifle of unknown make, painted with the Blood Pack colors and logo. Wrex could only assume that it was one of their homemade weapons like the Punisher and Executioner. This would mean it had high recoil and low ammo capacity, but a lot of power in each shot. A clip expansion and stabilizer modification further hinted at this.

"I was almost afraid you'd insist on arresting me and making me stand trial," Wreav sneered. "After all, that's what _polite_ societies do."

"It's a good thing you weren't clan chief, Wreav. We'd be extinct by now."

"I _was_ Clan Chief after you left. Because you couldn't stomach your own people when you killed Jerrod. He was a real krogan, a pity that can't be said for his son. Then you had to come back and ruin everything."

Wrex knew what his brother was trying to do. Cloud his judgment by angering him. Despite his conservative attitude, Wreav had grown to be calm, manipulative, and calculating.

But two could play at that game.

"Trying to play with my head, brother?" Wrex asked with a smug grin. "How like a salarian of you."

Wrex strafed to avoid the gunfire that was Wreav's response. His assault rifle was as loud as a minigun with the force of an anti-materiel rifle. It demanded a firm grip with both hands and unloaded ten rounds before the thermal clip was spent.

Wrex made note of that by the sounds.

Wading through the sea of pillars, Wrex was unsure of Wreav's location. Certain that the Blood Pack rifle was powerful enough to punch through anything he might use as cover. The plating of his crimson mercenary armor which saw him through centuries of conflict, and the strength of his kinetic shields would likely not be able to hold very long either. Meaning that when he encountered Wreav, he would have to be fast and lucky.

"Hiding like a coward, Wrex?" Wreav yelled, trying to agitate him.

"What an idiot," Wrex mumbled. "Giving away his position trying to lure me out."

"Wrex!" Wreav yelled. "Come out and play!"

Wrex circled the area where Wreav's voice was coming from and closed in. He sprung out from cover and shot three times, striking his target dead on.

That target being a voice projector that was now scrap metal.

Wrex jumped behind cover to avoid being shot, realizing he had let himself fall into a trap. Wreav had improved; counting on Wrex to underestimate him with past experiences. A keen tactic. The blood now coming from Wrex's arm with a burning pain complimented that fact. It took Wreav five seconds to reload, another detail Wrex made note of.

"Heh," Wrex chuckled. "And here I was afraid he wouldn't be a challenge."

Not wasting a second, Wrex moved before Wreav came around to attack again, leaving a hot frag grenade waiting for him. The Blood Pack leader had to jump away to avoid the explosion. Giving Wrex the opportunity he needed to come out and strike.

Wreav's kinetic barriers absorbed the first two shots from Wrex's M-11 Wraith, but the third brought them down. He sidestepped, turned, and aimed his rifle. As it began to fire, Wrex swung his shotgun and knocked the rifle out of alignment with his body and it unloaded ten shots in the other direction. The intense kickback almost loosing it from Wreav's one handed grip.

Wrex charged as his brother scrambled for a thermal clip, knowing how much time he had.

_One. _Wreav barely dodged before Wrex could tackle him.

_Two. _Wrex poised and aimed his shotgun.

_Three. _Wreav's regenerated shields absorbed the shot. The last round Wrex had before he needed to reload. Something he did not have time for.

_Four. _Wrex dropped his gun and sprinted ahead.

_Five. _Wrex charged Wreav and head butted him before he could poise to fire.

Curling a fist, Wrex punched his brother square in the jaw and manifested his omni-blade, slashing.

Wreav caught Wrex's omni-blade with his own and they struggled in a deadlock. An injured arm did nothing to hinder Wrex's strength.

Using his free arm, Wreav aimed his assault rifle directly at Wrex's stomach. "It's over!" he said before Wrex shifted his weight to unbalance him and knocked the gun away as it began to fire. The recoil was too much for Wreav's hand and he wavered, giving his brother the chance to lash out with his omni-blade and disarm him. The air charged with dark energy as Wrex cast the gun far away with a biotic Push before Wreav could go to retrieve it.

Now they would settle their score with fists.

Wrex slammed his fist intro Wreav's jaw. But the Blood Pack leader recovered quickly and came back with a head butt that shook Wrex, granting him a moment to wrestle his brother to the ground.

They struggled for control of their brawl and each delivered many hits to the other, leaving their faces bloodied and bruised. Leaving welts that would sting for days to come.

As Wrex attempted to stand, he was kicked out at the shin by Wreav and brought back down and kneed in the eye. The temptation of using biotics came to Wrex's mind. But in direct combat, it was an advantage he did not want to exploit. He would school is brother fairly.

Wreav piled on top of Wrex and hammered down with his fist. Again and again, until Wrex caught his wrist and rolled over, becoming the one on top and giving Wreav the same. He head butted down and pounded again, with one final slam using all of his might. Wreav's brow crest shattered. Blood pooled under his head.

Wrex wobbled to his feet and loomed over Wreav, who was defeated. With an exertion of will, he pulled his Wraith to him using biotics and reloaded.

Wreav coughed and spat blood. "You're. . still. . strong. . brother."

"Looks like my throne hasn't made as fat and weak as people seem to think," Wrex huffed. "Leadership is not just about who thinks they have the right ideas. You have to earn it by being strong and right. I've earned it, and I've given more to our people than they deserve. You know who can be thanked for that? Someone who's been more of a brother to me than you ever were."

"Finish it," Wreav demanded, not wanting to hear Wrex preaching to him.

"No," Wrex declined. "You're not worth killing," he said. The greatest insult that could be given to a krogan.

Wrex walked away, heading toward Grunt and Kyrel.

Noticing a pistol dropped by one of the warriors who'd died in initiation, Wreav reached for it and lined up the sight at Wrex's back. But before he could fire, his head burst in a spray of blood and brains.

Wrex looked back and tracked the shot's origin. A sniper rifle held by a krogan he recognized as Jorgal Thurak. A harsh and uncompromising conservative who never backed down from a challenge. "I'm surprised you're with the Blood Pack, Thurak," Wrex said. "You always hated anything to do with Clan Weyrlock."

"After seeing that display of cowardice, I'm regretting the decision to join," he replied. "I respect old ways, not his idiocy."

The only thing Wrex had to offer in response to Thurak was a shot in the face. He came to kill the Blood Pack, after all. "Wipe them out!" he ordered Grunt and Kyrel.

"Heh, heh, heh," Grunt snickered as he reloaded his gun and unleashed his fury on the remaining mercs.

"Councilors," Wrex addressed them over the comm later that day. He refused to come to the Citadel for this meeting. They would play by his rules for a change.

"I'm reading your report on the Blood Pack," Sparatus said. "It seems that they were responsible for many of the offenses your people were charged with committing."

"Apology accepted," he grinned victoriously.

"I expect the stolen property to be returned," Valern snidely demanded.

"What's left of it will be."

Miranda went over the report carefully and cross referenced it with what her own intelligence reports said. "And with the Blood Pack gone, many of the fires starting around Tuchanka have been snuffed. Peace reigns. Good work."

"Thanks," Wrex replied. "For now anyway. I admit, we krogan are a touchy bunch."

"Indeed," Sparatus agreed. "Now that your home disputes have been settled, we can get to fixing our problems."

Wrex twitched. "No."

"It's not in your best interest to refuse us," Valern cautioned.

"The krogan have made mistakes, just like everyone has. But we've saved your ungrateful asses more than once." Growling lowly, Wrex coldly stated, "I'll say this once, and don't you _ever_ forget it. We are part of this galaxy, deal with it!" He pressed a button on the comm terminal, closing the channel.

Another thing he learned from Shepard.

"You just hung up on the Council," Bakara said to Wrex as he left the comm room. She was thunderstruck by his action.

"It felt good too," Wrex laughed.

"They're going to hold this against us," she warned.

"Eh, Shepard's done it a million times," was his excuse. "It'll be fine."

"You're impossible sometimes," Bakara shook her head.

"If you're that worried about the Council, you deal with them from now on," he said. "I'm a general, _not_ a diplomat."

Tuchanka still suffered many problems. But as Miranda said, peace reigned. Time had been bought to build the new Shroud facility and cool the planet. Krogan who left because of this would undoubtedly return. Arguments would still be made against the Union's reforms by conservatives. But Wrex knew with certainty that in time, they would see the benefit of his vision. The krogan would thrive. Overcoming the faults of their nature was simply a challenge.

But meeting a challenge and prevailing was something they were good at.

They were krogan.


End file.
